The Owl of Remembrance
by fiozio
Summary: What of Jareth is real, and what did he craft to suit Sarah's vision?  10 years later Sarah learns the truth.
1. Chapter 1

I love flashy, sexy, tight pants, Jareth as much as any women, but I've always questioned if that was his true form. This fan-fic is an attempt to think about who he might be when he's not exhausted in living up to Sarah's expectations. Please read and review. Thanks

Sarah loved to write in the barn. She'd even bundle up in the dead of winter to sit for hours at her small table, writing in a leather bound journal. Only when it got dark did she make her way back to the farmhouse. She had bought the property after the sale of her first novel and converted the living room into a study, with a nice antique desk, an assortment of bookshelves and a big soft rug in front of the fireplace. She'd thought it would be the perfect place to write, and sometimes it was, but more often than not she found herself out in the barn. "The owls must help me write." she thought.

She was 15 when her obsession with owls began. She had woken up with a scream. "Toby!" Her parents had found her in her baby brother's room, holding him close.

"I had a nightmare. Someone took him," she'd gasped. Toby was crying by this point and Sarah offered to put him back to sleep to make up for startling everyone. She'd curled up with him in chair and looked out the large French doors. Drops of water clung from the branches. "Did it rain earlier? I don't remember." she thought. The moonlight calmed her and she began to sing softly.

"But I'll be there for you...as the world falls down." Toby's breathing slowed as she sang till he finally calmed and fell asleep.

Sarah drew her fingers through Toby's fine baby hair, then bent her head down to kiss the top of his. As she did she saw something flicker past the glass.

She gasped. A large white owl had landed in the tree. It looked directly at her, meeting her eyes. Sarah sat motionless for a long time and starred back. Finally she carried Toby to his bed, moving slowly so as not to disturb the owl. She tucked Toby in and then turned back to the owl. It hadn't moved and it was still watching her.

She moved closer to the French doors and carefully turned the door handle. The doors swung inwards and Sarah stepped through them. The owl was very close now. She felt her fingers twitching to touch the feathers and felt her lips part as if to speak, "I know you." she said in a whisper.

The owl closed its eyes as if to respond and then before Sarah could react it flashed them back open and flew away. She did not sleep once she was back in her room.

"The park. I saw him when I was practicing...something...at Mayweather Park." She tried to pin down the memory but it was faded and unclear. She felt she'd seen him somewhere else too, but couldn't remember. She felt a flash of something when she rubbed her hand and realized her ring was missing, but again she couldn't place it.

The years passed, and that night remained with her. Owls became her new obsession. When she was young she'd collected costumes and fairytales, fantasy figurines and other toys and would use them in the stories she'd make up. Now it was owls but not just any owl. Her parents gave her a cutesy little owl figurine for graduation. It held a sign up saying, " Who gives a hoot about high school. I'm off to college." Sarah hadn't given a hoot about the figurine and had soon disposed off it. Her tastes ran towards expressive art prints, with gorgeous and sometimes frightening representations of owls, or nature books with beautiful color photos. The part of her that loved telling stories had stayed with her though, and when she was 25 she finished and sold her first novel, "The Owl at the Window." It was children's mystery novel and it had done well for a first book. No "Harry Potter" but enough to buy her a little farmhouse in the country. She'd looked at a number of places but settled on a small piece of property, which still had the original barn on it. The barn owls, which nested in the rafters, had sealed the deal.

The Owl at the Window had been followed by The Owl in Mayweather Park and now she was writing a new novel to complete the series. It was either going to be The Owl in the Castle or The Owl in the Ruins. The common theme in all her stories was a young person who solved a mystery, which helped them grow up. The Owl was an enigma of a character who left clues for the protagonist, with a fine ink drawing of an owl attached. She was planning on revealing the true identity of the Owl in the final novel, if only she could decide what that identity was.

Screech and Barny inspired her but they were no help when it came to actual plot points. The two barn owls who nested above in the rafters had become used to her presence and would sometimes fly down in the evenings while she wrote. They lacked the presence of the original owl in the window, but they still carried themselves with a majestic quality.

One night, she'd dragged her battery powered camping lamp out to the barn so she could write longer. The words had been flowing thick and fast all day and she didn't want to lose momentum. She felt as if the identity of the Owl was becoming clearer to her and she wanted to record every impression. "Thin, strange, beautiful, frightening" the words sketched her character across the page. She would have kept writing save for a flash of feathers in the corner of her eye.

"Do you have a good idea Screech?" she said, looking up. But it was not Screech, nor Barny. It was another owl, a familiar owl.


	2. Chapter 2

The stare between them lengthened and stretched. If it had been another person, self-consciousness and embarrassment would have long since parted their eyes. Between the girl and the owl though, understanding grew.

At last she slipped from her small makeshift desk to sit on the ground. She reached her hand out towards the owl and it, in turn, stepped cautiously towards her. Sarah gasped as it came within reach of her hand. Soon her fingers were gliding over its feathers, from its neck to its tail.

"It must be you..." she whispered. "My owl."

Even as she stroked its feathers their eyes did not part. Sarah felt as if were revealing things to her, stories, songs, dreams and memories, only they were hazy and half-formed.

"I wish..."

The Owls glance seemed to sharpen at the words. Sarah could feel something shift within the vibrations of its body as she stroked it.

"I wish...you could talk to me." she breathed.

Her fingertips slid down the feathers then her hand jumped back...Skin.

The eyes, still fixed on her, shifted from owl eyes, to a pair of mismatched human eyes, blue and brown.

The feathers were floating away now, on a soft breeze, which drifted through the barn, and the Owl was gone. Only a man lay on the ground before her.

Sarah did not panic until she heard the car pull into the driveway.

"Damn, Toby!" she cried. "I forgot."

Her parents were headed for an anniversary cruise to the Bahamas and Sarah had agreed to watch Toby for the week and a half they'd be gone. She gotten the spare bedroom ready yesterday morning but now there was a man laying it.

She'd half carried him there herself the night before. He had been so weak, barely breathing or speaking though he managed to say "no" when she'd asked if she should call a doctor. "My hand." he'd rasped, extending his palm towards her and she'd taken it. She'd sat by his bedside the whole night, hand in hand with him, watching him breath. She had only gotten up to get him some water when her family arrived the next morning.

Her brother was struggling to carry his own bags up to the house.

"How do you like our little man?" said her father as he hugged her. "He'll probably clear brush and chop trees for you while he'd here.

Her stepmother had already made it to the door and was holding it open for Toby. Sarah felt her head swimming from the sleepless night. The family was moving too quickly. She needed to stop them.

"Wait...wait Toby. Leave your bags in the study. You have to sleep on the couch. There is...water damage in the spare bedroom."

"Water damage? Let me take a look at it. "

"No, Dad. I've got someone coming to take a look. You and Karen need to get to the airport."

Karen came down from the front step after letting Toby in. She hugged Sarah. "Thanks dear...otherwise your father might cancel the trip so he could do some remodeling for you."

"Hey, I resemble that remark." laughed her dad.

Sarah hurried them into the car and gave a quick wave before dashing back into the house. The door to the spare bedroom was closed and Toby lay out on the rug playing with some little video game system.

He looked up at her. "Can I see the water damage? What's water damage? Did your house flood?"

All night she had been content to hold the man's hand, her mind undisturbed by the logic and questions, which now flooded in. She sat down on the sofa and began piecing a story together in her mind.

"Toby, do you remember how weird Mom and Dad were when I brought Michael home?"

"Huh, what? Oh, that guy?" His eyes drifted back towards his video game.

"Well my boyfriend got...sick last night so I let him stay in the spare bedroom...but Mom and Dad might freak if they knew I had a new boyfriend."

Toby mumbled something in response. His eyes were now glued to his game. Apparently water damage and video games were more interesting than his sister's love life. At least he wouldn't ask too many questions.

Sarah went into the kitchen and filled the glass of water she'd taken out earlier. Then she poured cereal and milk into another bowl and carried it all back into the spare bedroom. The man was still lying beneath the blankets, but his eyes were open now. He turned his head slowly towards her and smiled.

"Water..." Sarah mumbled. She felt awkward and strange now that the illogic of the situation had grown in her mind. She had ten thousand questions, but if she asked them she felt as if some spell might break.

Sarah watched as the man pulled himself up to a sitting position. The blanket slipped down around his waist to reveal a pale, thin and weak body. Sarah flicked her eyes away from this body to his face. Mismatched eyes, sharp thin features and chin length wolf grey hair met her gaze.

He drank the water slowly as Sarah sat beside him. She handed him the cereal bowl and he starred at the contents and then began swirling his spoon around the bowl without lifting it.

"I've got eggs and toast if you want." The awkward mundaness of breakfast hung between them for a moment.

"No, this is...this is wonderful." He then began eating rapidly and was soon slurping the left over milk right out of the bowl. "Is there more?"

Sarah brought him eggs toast and two more bowls of cereal before he was finished. She had bought a little extra food for Toby's visit, but if the man kept eating at this rate she knew she'd have to go shopping again. He needed clothing to. He'd been remarkable free of it when he'd appeared in the barn. She wondered why it hadn't bothered her till now.

She left him again to wash up the dishes and check on Toby. He had finished his video game and was poking about the fireplace. Her parents didn't have one so her's fascinated Toby. He looked up at her as she entered.

"Sarah, Can we walk over to those old rusty tractors today?"

Sarah paused. Toby had stayed with her before, and ordinarily they would walk all over place, exploring the farm country and the little wooded areas between properties. She'd tell Toby stories about things they would find along the way, like the "Tale of the Haunted Tractors." Now, however her mind was unsettled, and she felt unsure.

"Why don't you run around nearby and I'll come out in a bit."

Toby grinned and then raced out the door, letting the screen door slam shut. Sarah went to her closet.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

An old Fun Run t-shirt and a bath towel were the only things she had that fit him. The T-shirt was one of those jumbo-sized freebies that Sarah could never wear in public, but was useful as a work shirt for messy projects. The towel was a cheery pink and green floral pattern. The man looked ridiculous in them but he didn't seem to mind. The breakfast seemed to have given him his strength back and he'd managed to wobble his way to the bathroom.

"What is he? What's happening? Why do I know him? What should I do?" Her mind ran in circles, racing to find logic and a plan. She wasn't a worrier by nature. She tended to accept things as they came, but she felt a strong sense of urgency gnawing at her. It wasn't until Toby popped back into the house that her wild horse of a mind snapped back into focus.

"Aren't you ever coming out?"

"In a minute."

"But it's been over an hour. Come on sis..."

"It hasn't been an hour. Its..." She stopped and looked at the clock. He was right. It was well over an hour and the man was still inside the bathroom. Sarah went over to its door.

"Are you alright?" she called but there was no answer. She knocked and knocked but still nothing. Finally she opened the door to see him, lying facedown on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

He stood before the mirror... gray-brown hair, sunken eyes, a thin, pale body. He had changed since he was last himself. His face hadn't aged terribly. He still recognized his angular features, but there were a few new lines. What was he by their standards? Late thirties? Early forties? He stared for a long time.

"Am I free from my bottle?" he asked aloud.

He was himself, that much was clear, but the wish still hovered about him, holding him in and restricting him. Like all the wishes he'd granted, he'd had some flexibility in how he granted it, but this was more than his usual leeway.

She must have been thinking of him, trying to figure him out as she wrote her novel. Her wish to hear him speak and her longing to understand The Owl had gotten mixed together somehow. He'd felt her pull at him before when she wrote about The Owl but last night the pull had been at its strongest. He'd watch her every now and then, from a distance, but she never wished for anything until last night.

"I don't know the ending to this story." he said in a whisper. He felt his head stand to spin and his legs give way. His body crumpled. He felt cold tile against his cheek.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A boy was helping her drag him out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong with this guy? Why is he so old? Are we going to call an ambulance? I've always wanted to ride in an ambulance."

"Be quiet for a minute Toby. I've got to think."

Toby...yes, he remembered now. The little baby from the first wish. It had been fun to have the little fellow around for those few hours. He didn't often get real children with the wishes.

They left him on a rug in front of a fireplace. Sarah knelt beside him and felt his forehead. Her hand calmed him...no...more than calmed him. When she took it away he felt himself weaken. He remembered calling out for her hand the night before, like a survival instinct. She must have some power in her. Oh, that's right, he'd given her certain powers. He usually did a better job of cleaning up the residue from past wishes. The defeat must have distracted him.

"Your hand." he gasped.

Sarah bent down next to hit but did not touch him. "Who are you?" she said.

"Your hand...please." At last she slipped her hand into his.

"Who are you?...please."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He wished he could have answered her then but he was too weak. It might have kept her from calling the ambulance. The boy, Toby, seemed happy enough about it though. He got to ride in the ambulance with the man while Sarah followed behind in her car.

In the end though, it didn't do much harm, and the IV the doctors gave him actually seemed to help as much as Sarah's hand. She had to falsify a lot of paperwork for him, and tell a few lies about him, but they made it safely out the next morning.

Sarah pulled the car into a shopping center parking lot on the way home. She handed Toby some cash from her wallet and told him to go into the store and buy some clothes. She gave him a detailed list of the sizes and things that were needed. He did all right on the sizes but when they got home the man found himself forced to choose between basketball or football.

"What wrong with the Detroit Tigers?" asked Toby.

Sarah had nearly busted a gut when the man stumbled into the living room in sweat pants and a Detroit Tigers shirt.

"I just don't think that's a good look for him." She felt relieved to be laughing. The man laughed too as he sat down.

"The way you dressed me wasn't much better Sarah," he said suddenly, looking her in the eye…"or don't you remember?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, sorry about towel and T-shirt. It was the best I could do." She smiled sheepishly at him.

The man smiled back at her. He tried to read her expression but all he could detect was embarrassment. She hadn't understood what he was referring to. How could she? If she remembered anything she wouldn't be treating him so kindly. Still, he felt the urge to spark her memory.

However was snapped away from his urge by the thud of Toby landing next to him on the couch.

"Hey Brian...Who is your favorite football team? Do you like football? Sarah, if you'd buy a T.V. we could watch football."

"Brian?" the man asked, looking at Sarah.

"Um, Toby...You can use the computer in my bedroom to get on the Internet. Why don't you see if you can download some football games?"

"I can't believe you don't have a T.V. sis! Sheesh!" with that Toby headed for Sarah's bedroom.

"Brian?" he said again after Toby left the room.

"It's the name I filled out at the Emergency Room. I told Toby that was your name too. You don't look like a Brian though. I just pulled the name out of the air."

The two of them sat across from each other in silence for a while, the man on the couch and Sarah in an armchair. It was midmorning now and the room was full of light. Sarah kept her eyes focused on a sunbeam, which spilled through the front window. The man kept his eyes on Sarah.

"I suppose," he said, breaking the silence, "I ought to tell you my name and explain everything to you."

Sarah looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and she clasped her hands together tightly.

"No, please don't. You're my owl. That's enough for me right now. I don't...I don't...well, it would be like dissecting a flower to see what makes it beautiful. If you explain everything to me, won't that make the magic go away?"

The man felt his pulse quicken at her words. Her insight was astounding. He had always felt a strange magic between them that he could never explain, nor did he want to. It hadn't been clear to him when they'd first met. She'd seemed like the others, spoiled, selfish and foolish. But the thing that made her special, the thing that made her the first, the only one...that was still a great and precious mystery to him.

She noticed that she'd turned her head away from him again. Her face was flushed and he could detect a slight tremble in her hands. He knew he was making her nervous but it was difficult not to stare at her.

"I'm sorry, that I've put you in this difficult place...trying to explain me to your brother, while you don't understand yourself. At lease let me explain enough to put you at ease. I promise not to dissect any flowers in the process."

She laughed a little, and they both relaxed. She turned her eyes towards him again, looking ready to listen. He opened his mouth but before he could speak Sarah said, "Maybe we should go outside so Toby won't walk in on us."

Sarah felt awful for trying to push Toby away from this situation, yet when he'd left the room to go play on the Internet she was relieved. She tried to think of it as protecting him, like she'd always done. Despite her fascination her new houseguest, she didn't trust or understand enough to have Toby be involved with him. But there was more to it than protecting a little brother.

She felt she'd barely had anytime to absorb this mystery. The idea of Toby as the tag-along little brother trying to pester his older sister on a date occurred to her. Toby was nearly a teenager now and this was no date, but the Toby had become an annoying factor nonetheless.

Now, she was outside, sitting on a blanket in the grass, across from a man in a Detroit Tigers shirt, who was about to explain the greatest mystery of her life, and it was all she could do to not watch the house to see if Toby might come out to interrupt.

The man seemed more distracted than earlier. She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than the intense stare he'd been giving her earlier. He was breathing in the air, running his hands through the grass, and staring up in amazement at the clouds.

"It's so beautiful out here. Thank you Sarah...Thank you."

"Err...um, your welcome."

"I'm sorry. You just don't understand how long it's been since I've been in the world like this."

"So you haven't always been an owl?"

"No...Sarah. Not always, but for far too long, but thanks to you I can breath freely."

"When I wished...when I wanted you to speak to me...Did that...did it...?"

"Did it break a spell? Yes, but it was more than just that wish. You were writing something, in your little journal. That is what drew me to you in the first place."

"I was trying to figure out a character inspired by my owl...by you...I mean...um, you are the same owl I remember aren't you?"

He nodded. Then he reached out and grasped her hand.

"I am your owl, Sarah."

Again, there was silence between them. The man didn't know what to say next. It occurred to him that though this felt like freedom, the wish still constricted him. He was going to have to start lying to her now, if he truly wanted to be free.


	5. Chapter 5

So, lesson learned. Don't start writing fan fiction during graduate school. Since my last update, I've finally finished graduate school, taught first grade and now kindergarten, bought a house and moved to a new city with my husband. The Owl of Remembrance has always been in the back of my mind though. I have the plot in my head up to a certain point. Maybe I can take it somewhere this year now that I am not in grad school and am settled in my new city.

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Abras stirred in his slumber. Ages upon ages had passed in stillness, in silence, in a place without form. In a place that was no place. Everything that had once been Abras felt the stirring. Then the quivering, then the motion of gathering itself together. Even then, long after the hands had formed, and the heart beat, the memories still swirled, cloudy and pale. Only a sense of alarm and alertness clued him into what awaited.

When the memories did finally whisper their secrets, Abras lost no time in reminiscing. Only his duty mattered now and if the beast was walking the earth again, then Abras alone could stop it from gaining it's freedom.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

He was surprised at the guilt that formed in the pit of his stomach. He had once lied as easily as breathing in and out. As he sat under the blue sky, hand in hand with the dark haired girl his old arts seemed out of place and impure. He weighed in his mind the merits of a dozen different stories but none gave him any peace.

"You don't have to tell me anything." she said at last, "If it's troubling for you."

"Do I look troubled?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"It's just….it is difficult to find words to describe it."

"Like dissecting flowers?" She smiled.

"Hmmmmm….Yes" He looked into her eyes again and stared for a bit. Finally his mind settled on an idea he could live with."

"Who I am, Sarah, is almost as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I think I was a man once, very very long ago, but I hardly remember that life. I do remember that I made some terrible mistake, and angered someone. They must have had some power and decided to take revenge. Since then I have been drifting through this world, sometimes as an owl, sometimes as little more than a breeze. I think I respond to those who have a strong spirit, like your own. I think I must be a kind of muse, or inspiration for them. I appear to them in some animal form, until their spirit stops calling out to me. You are the first who has wished me to speak."

"How many others have their been?" she asked, a troubled look darkening her face.

"Not many. I remember appearing as a wolf to a dark skinned man who drew pictures on cave walls, and as a raven to another who was always writing things down in pen and ink."

"How do you know how to speak English." she blurted out suddenly.

"I thought we weren't dissecting flowers."

Sarah looked embarrassed, like a child whose done something she shouldn't have.

"No, it's a fair question. Whenever I've appeared in the world I seem to always understand what is being said, and going on around me. It's only the past which is murky for me. The present always seems bright and clear."

"And now?" she asked, no longer looking at him, but instead staring into the distance.

"And now…" he echoed, for he could think of nothing else to say.


	6. Chapter 6

Abras had not expected to dig his way up through so many layers. He tried to figure how many years the layers of soil might represent. One thousand?….Five thousand? He could not be sure. When he finally came to the surface he lay still and quiet on the woodland moss, gathering his strength. It would have used his powers but he couldn't risk the beast sensing him. When he felt restored, he set off to the east. There had been a river there once and men had dwelt beside it. He'd expected to walk for a while before he came to a dwelling, but after 30 paces he was out of the woodland and standing before a very large house.

He approached the doorway cautiously. There appeared to be two doors, an inner, solid door and a outer door made of glass. "Such a door" he thought. "It must be the home of a wealthy nobleman." He looked down at his clothing. It had aged considerably, barely the thickness of a spider's web now, and covered in fresh soil. He had never had to beg before and wondered how quickly it would take to secure enough money for new clothing.

He knocked at the glass door but no one answered. To his left he could see that there were other homes, just as large and fine as this one. As he walked he could see a strange black road to his right. He went towards it, hoping to get a better sense of his surroundings. On both sides, the road was lined with large and magnificent homes, each with glass windows and glass outer doors. "A land of princes" he thought.

He tried door after door but no one would open to him. A few people opened the inner door but slammed it shut once they saw him. He was about to head back into the woods to think over a plan, when a flash of red and blue lights caught his notice. Men came from beneath the lights and began talking to him in a strange language. They took him and put him in a strange, small hold, under the blue and red lights.

What happened next he had no words for. The world blurred by, outside the glass windows of the hold. He saw nothing he knew or recognized, only strange shapes, lights and buildings. Only when he lay on a cot behind cold bars did he know something of what happened. "From beggar to prisoner." he thought, yet he still could think of no reason to risk using magic.


End file.
